


Wander: A tale of toons and demons

by Kirbysans (CATIM)



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Cuphead (Video Game), Disney - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dark Magic, Dark times in the Joey Drew studios, Demonic Possession, Developing Friendships, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, cartoon violence, toons and humans coexisting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CATIM/pseuds/Kirbysans
Summary: I am one of six demons that was sent to this studio to grant dark wishes for the famous Joey Drew.But this story isn’t about me.Nor is it about Joey.This is about the toon he created with one of his wishes.(Temporary summary)





	Wander: A tale of toons and demons

**Author's Note:**

> The point of view will be switched between two characters in each chapter.
> 
> Not sure how far I am going to go with this story. It's an idea I've been wanting to try.

I was sent here for one purpose: to grant a twisted man’s wishes. All six of us were. We were to take the gifts the man gives us in exchange for what he desired most and hear his everlasting promises to be a follower of our leader.

This man called us the divines. Which I thought was hilarious because we were regular demons with no great significance, a bunch of nobodies in Hell. Though to him, we were everything.

It was interesting the first time hearing him babble about how much he dreamt his new studio to be the biggest thing in the world. Most mortals would ask for money or even death upon another. They would even have the circle drawn and the jar of blood ready before asking.

Not Joey Drew though; he was different. He pleaded to the Boss through secret prayers before the machine he so heartily sketched out was made.

He even offered his soul right away, which usually is the clincher to any deal, but Joey Drew was so adamant about his decision that Boss became intrigued with him and wanted to give him a new ritual to test his dedication.

“For every desire, you wish for,” The Boss told Drew one night, when the man was visiting the studio he purchased with his life savings. To the mortal, he appeared as a large shadow with long horns of an antelope, and the biggest brightest yellow eyes looming down at him. “You are to offer six gifts to six of my demons, and once a year you must offer me a sacrifice. For every day missed, I will shade one year of your life. Take this deal, and you shall have everything you want.”

“Consider it done,” There was no hesitation. No looking back at life choices, and thinking what would his religious mother think of him.

Joey only smiled, in a proud sort of way, as he pricked his finger with a small blade and signed the contract with his blood.

At the time I thought he was going to regret his choice once he realized the life he was going to be living. But that regret never came, Joey was indeed a twisted man. Most of the followers usually are, but something about him made him a favorite among demons, including myself for a while.

He was a different kind of mad, the kind I liked. The kind of mortal that did crazy things because he wanted something so badly.

That’s why I volunteered to be one of his six demons. And why I later regretted it.

My name isn’t important, nor is my backstory. I’m not even the main focus of this tale.

But neither is Joey.

 

The main character didn’t come into this world until seven months after the deal had been made.

The six of us were haunting the studio, watching Joey and his colleague Henry Mood as shadows only certain eyes can see, as they prepare everything they need to start new careers.

With their mix funds and a couple of donations from friends and family, the men had spent an amount of time fixing up the place before looking into finding staff.

They hired Thomas Connor, a handyman who later works full time for them, to build the machine on Joey’s blueprints in the mean while.

Connor got frustrated over it easily. He scratched his head at it, turn the blueprint one way then the other, cursed a lot and toss a few wrenches at the wall that he had to repair later. Then after calming down, he’d pretend to figure it out, but I could see in his expressions that he didn’t know at first what he was making. Neither did Henry when he was first asked about it.

“Heck if I know,” He said to Thomas when Drew wasn’t around. “Joey is a man who keeps a lot of secrets. I’m sure more than I can count on my fingers.”

Thomas was a skeptical type. “And yet you listen to the guy?”

“We're doing this together. I wouldn’t be a good partner if I didn’t try to support his ideas.”

Even after the last bolt was screwed in place and the men got a whole view of the machine, Henry and Thomas still didn’t understand its purpose. The machine was box-shaped with a single pipe run by gears pointing down toward the floorboard. Connected to the back was a massive glass container that Thomas struggled with the most, but every detail was put together perfectly. Joey was thrilled about it.

 

“Excellent job, Mr. Connor! It turned out just how I imagined it.” He had praised the man while dragging in several duffel bags from outside. We were all intrigued by this point and some of us, I can’t say I was one of them, had placed bets on what was inside the bags.

 

“You think Joey is mad enough to kill and put bodies in those bags?”

 

 “Why on earth would he show the other mortals then? He’d be jeopardizing everything he wants. I think it’s our six gifts he must give us.”

 

 “There are more than six items in those bags, and it makes no sense to carry them separately. What do you think? You’ve been quiet.”

 

They had looked to me for an answer after their short debate as if I was supposed to guess a hundred ink bottles were stuffed inside each duffel.

I knew what they were doing. The six of us were stuck here in this studio, following a mortal together, so might as well get friendly with each other right?

Ha.

They were all deceivers. I learned that later in the years, and was wise enough not to get close to any of them.

“Could be anything,” I had said to them, keeping my answer simple and eyes on the mortals.

 

It was Henry who opened the first duffel and became quickly overwhelmed and confused by what he found.

“What in the Sam Hill...Joey, I don’t understand, why did you buy all this ink? How much did this cost us?” He exclaimed.

Joey didn’t stop for a second to catch his breath. “No need to worry about the cost. I took care of it. For what it is for, you will soon find out, dear Henry. Now hurry, get a ladder and help me put all this ink in the container.”

Henry shared a questionable look with Thomas when his back was turned. Neither said a thing as they followed the mad man’s directions.

 

It took the men hours to open up every inkwell and pour them into the machine. I grew impatient watching them do it after two, and had to stroll away to keep myself occupied. Demons can get antsy too, you know, and I just couldn’t stand still.

I grew curious about the machine and couldn’t stop thinking about what its purpose would be with all that ink. What would be Joey’s first wish involving this contraption?

I imagined a lot of things, crazy things, that only a mortal like him would think to do.

‘Maybe he’s going to use it on the studio. He said he wanted it to be the biggest thing in the world.’

It wouldn’t have surprised me if he had meant that literally. It actually made me giddy thinking of the madness it would ensue.

While the others watched the men, I went exploring in the unattended sections of the studio and came across something peculiar that caught my attention. There was a closet size room at the end of one corridor, lights still on, unlocked and full of artifacts from a cartoon show that were left behind by the previous owner. A poster of a toon cat in a cutesy flora dress hung on the wall.

The toon was Cici the Calico; I didn’t need to look at the title to know that because her retirement was all over the news several months back. The poor cat just couldn’t find it in her to continue acting after her director of 20 years past away.

She looked a lot happier on the poster than she did during the interview. Her makeup wasn’t smeared with tears, her stance showed some sass to her and didn’t mope. She had a sweet smile that must have made her fanboys hearts thump out of their chest, and sent them to the hospital when she announced her retirement.

My eyes directed down at the printed name of the company that had hired her for all those years. A company that would one day be forgotten.

It was in that moment; I had figured out the purposes of the machine.

Toons.

Toons were huge in television and movie industries, and for a lot of inspiring directors, it was hard to find the top-rated toons that would make them the most money. A lot of the biggest stars were already under someone’s contract. But if one were to make a perfect toon....say with a machine and a ritual that granted a wish....

I couldn’t help but smile at the cleverness. “You really are mad, Joey. Brilliantly mad.”

 

I was going to tell the other five of my discovery when I came back, but the mortals were just finishing up with the ink and Joey was placing vary objects in a circle around the machine. I thought it be better if they see it for themselves.

“Just in time,” A demon, who I later refer to as The First, said to me upon my return. “Where have you been?”

“Wandering,” I said. “Why? Is that a sin?”

He didn’t take my snark too welcoming. “Hmph, as long as you get here on time for the ritual we shouldn’t have a problem.”

Yes, the ritual. Joey was about to make his first wish.

I waited for someone to step forth first and stand in front of an offering, which happened to be the machine’s extra gear. The demon beside me stepped up next and stood in front an inkwell. I went up after him.

All the offerings were bland and a little too convenient for my taste, but it didn’t matter what the items were as long as there were six and we took them. Joey just had to properly offer them to us then make his wish.

I picked the old doll as my choice since it looked the most out of place. The other items seemed hand picked from the studio’s closet.

Its porcelain face was cracked with age. Its pale clothes were tattered and freshly smeared with ink from Joey’s stained hands. It was probably taken from his younger sister or sold cheaply to him at a general store when it wouldn’t sell.

One by one, the last three demons came up after me. They stood by the remaining offerings while looking to one another in silence. Then, the six of us waited for the mortal to do his part.

Joey stepped into the center of the circle, grinning as he pulled a rolled piece of paper from his coat pocket.

Henry and Thomas stood back and watched with growing concern for the man, but continue to say nothing. They couldn’t see us like Joey could.

Though we only appear as shadows to him, he looked at each of us with great eagerness glinting his eyes like he already knew our names, and kneeled.

“I ask of you, great divines,” Joey whispered to us while unraveling the paper in his hand. Then he slapped it on the floor.

It was what I expected. A drawing of a little smiling character with the pie-cuts eyes of a toon.

“Give my machine the power to bring this art to life, as a toon, so perfect and gifted with talent. In exchange, I give you these gifts from my past and my future. As I will forever follow and worship your master.”

A little over the top for my liking, but a mortal who does what he’s told, gets what he wants. Altogether, we performed our part of the ritual and picked up the offerings bestowed to us as a sign of acceptance. Then I watched as the doll and all the other gifts vanished from our hands, granting Joey his first wish.

Henry couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “Whoa, hold on! Where did that stuff go? It just...floated and disappeared.”

Neither could Thomas. “Yeah, what kind of magic is this, Mr. Drew?”

“Great magic!” Joey exclaimed. “The kind that isn’t cheap. Now quickly Henry, turn on the machine. I must see if it worked.”

Henry hesitated from where he stood in the doorway. He didn’t move until Joey gave a gesture to signify him to hurry, and stride over to the machine.

He flipped the small switch attached to the machine’s center unit then quickly backed off as if he expected it to blow up in his face.

It roared to life. Gears groaned and began to turn. Mechanical parts shook. The machine thumped wildly as a flow of ink spurt from its open pipe. The container was only a quarter full, but it was enough to flood the floor into a big inky puddle. The mortals backed away from it.

“All that ink, wasted. Whatever you're doing, our time filling that darn thing had better be worth it.” Said Thomas, sounding a little nervous and a lot annoyed.

“Just wait. It will be,” Joey said softly.

I looked at the other demons wondering if they heard that small bit of doubt in his voice. They didn’t seem to notice or care. Their focus was on the puddle, and so was mine when the ink started to morph into a form.

First, there was a head that curved into two points. Then a round torso with a bow tie. Thin arms and hands with white gloves, little legs, and feet already dressed in shiny black shoes. The machine slowed to a stop once the container had emptied, and the new ink body laid in the puddle of its remains, unmoved but breathing ever so quietly.

I turned my attention back to the mortals to see their contrasting reactions. Henry’s astonishment. Joey’s excitement.

“It worked,” The man mad’s voice broke into joyful laughter. “It worked, it worked, it worked! By the lord!” He knelt down to cradled the body’s head in his arm and wiped away the ink off his white face.

“Gentlemen, meet the star of our new careers. Bendy!”

“This thing made a toon?!” Thomas shouted. “How in the world is this possible?”

“Like I said, Mr. Connor. It’s magic,” Joey stared down at his sleeping creation. “And with enough belief, anything is possible.”

“And us, Joey. Don’t forget about your demons,” One of the demons commented, making the others chuckle.

They laugh, but it true. This shouldn’t be possible without the help of dark magic, like this ritual.

The idea of humans creating toons through art and believing in magic is nothing more than a made up fantasy for the kids. A myth.

No one talks about the sad story of why Walt Disney adopted an orphan mouse toon. Or how Pat Sullivan saved a homeless cat toon from freezing outside during a harsh winter.  
  
The truth is, humans made humans and toon made toons.

A machine creating a toon from ink and a human’s wish was like a dark, twisted version of that Pinocchio story.

Except...

Bendy isn’t a puppet.

Joey is not a toy maker.

And I am definitely not a blue fairy.


End file.
